Restraint
by Angrybee
Summary: Whilst traveling, Kisame and Itachi come upon Sai, alone in the wilderness. Is it coincidence? Or some very elaborate trap. (Various pairings.)


-=Restraint=-

It wasn't the sort of thing you usually came across, a lone Leaf Ninja  
wandering about in the woods near the border of River Country. Not usual  
in the slightest, so Itachi was immediately wary of a trap. Kisame, on  
the other hand, just wanted to kill the thing and be done with it. Not  
because Kisame was an overly bloodthirsty sort of guy, but because Leaf  
Ninjas were bad news, and besides...the two Akatsuki shinobi had other  
things to do.

But, Itachi wanted to observe it, so observe it they did.

That paint-ninja wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary, which made  
Itachi all the more suspicious. Shinobi who didn't act bizarrely tended  
to be hiding something. But, all the paint-ninja did was sit by the  
campfire and draw in a small sketch-book.

Of course, Itachi and Kisame knew all about Sai. They kept good tabs on  
the acquaintances of the jinchuuriki, Naruto. Sai's acceptance onto  
Naruto's team had only been of passing interest. They learned what little  
about him that they could - his favorite jutsus, his history with  
the supposedly secret society of Root, his part in Naruto's latest  
confrontation with Orochimaru and Sasuke. None of it was particularly  
interesting, especially to Kisame, who found intelligence-gathering  
missions to be: "Dull, dull, dull".

Perched in a tree, their presences cloaked by a proximity-limited  
genjutsu, the two Akatsuki members examined Sai, as well as the perplexing  
situation. Sai, however, did nothing more than grab a stick to poke at  
the fire, which caused it to flare brightly for a moment. Then, he  
returned to scribbling in his sketchbook.

"It's true," Kisame murmured, "He does look a little like Sasuke-kun."

Itachi leaned forward by several centimeters, an indication to only the  
most highly perceptive and nigh-psychic that he was trying to focus on  
Sai, and wished for Kisame to stop speaking.

Kisame, however, would generally only stop when Itachi became irritated  
enough to voice his opinion outright. Which was a rarer occurrance than  
Tobi saying something brilliant.

"I can't put my finger on it...the similarity. The hair is different.  
The face is a bit different. But, there's just something. Maybe it's  
the self-confidence." Kisame reached back to hold onto the hilt of the  
Samehada, which was strapped to his back, before continuing, "But, if  
Sasuke-kun looks like you, I guess that means the paint-ninja does, too."

Itachi glanced briefly at Kisame. Kisame smirked in return. Ah, a  
flicker of interest, was it? Or was that one annoyance? Still so  
difficult to tell, even after all these years of being partnered with the  
Uchiha.

"Does it irritate you, Itachi-san? To see a boy who is a shadow of the  
boy who wished to be your shadow?" Now Kisame was pressing his luck. He  
was fairly sure nothing of the sort could irritate the unflappable Uchiha  
Itachi, but once in a while, Kisame managed to dig a hook into Itachi's  
arrogance just enough to pry out some sort of reaction.

On those extraordinarily rare times, Kisame generally ended up injured.  
Before he could exhale, Itachi would shove a kunai between Kisame's ribs,  
a tiny frown fixed on his face. Then, as if nothing had happened, Itachi  
would turn and leave Kisame there to sort out his injury alone. Despite  
the pain, it was at least good to know that Itachi was actually human.

Sort of.

As per usual, Itachi didn't lower himself to answering the question.  
Instead, he just stood up straighter and intoned, "I see."

Which generally meant that Itachi had not only figured out what was going  
on, but had planned several moves ahead of their enemy. It spelled defeat  
for all but the strongest and most intelligent of shinobi.

Kisame sneered at what he was sure was Sai's impending demise. "Then,  
tell me?"

But, it was too late. Itachi leaped forward, hopping from tree to tree so  
effortlessly, and so quickly, that it was barely visible to the naked eye.  
Kisame followed, but kept himself at a distance. Itachi wouldn't need his  
help for this. Itachi rarely needed his help for anything.

His partner was a magnificent shinobi, and far, far more of a monster than  
Kisame. Or even any of the legendary beasts they had fought and captured  
for Akatsuki. Kisame ran his tongue across a sharp ridge of teeth as he  
watched. Maybe tonight. Maybe tonight that self-same tongue would  
slither along the inside of Itachi's thigh. Maybe Itachi would do that  
thing where his eyes narrowed, and his breath hitched, and he grabbed for  
a kunai to press against Kisame's throat. Itachi couldn't stand sex. He  
loathed losing control of himself, even for a few seconds. And yet, he  
was human. Sort of, kind of, a tiny bit human. Just enough so that he  
still needed a really good fuck, now and then.

And if he really, really, needed it... Itachi might do something  
extraordinary and revealing. Like fist his hand in Kisame's hair just  
before climax. Or trap them both in some bizarre genjutsu, full of  
spine-chilling screams and ever-widening pools of blood. Or say  
that strange name. Itachi's flat, monotone voice would state it so  
simply, betraying more about Itachi's thoughts than years of traveling  
with the man. "Shisui-san." Just like that. And never with any feeling  
or emphasis that Kisame could discern. But, still... Still... Kisame  
knew it meant -something-. What exactly, he wasn't sure. But,  
-something-.

Nonetheless, Kisame believed that, every so often, Itachi erased these  
things from his memory, en masse. Because Kisame wasn't sure when they'd  
started fucking, or how. And that seemed like something a man would  
remember. He was also fairly certain that he generally didn't find men  
attractive. But, was Itachi a man? Sort of. Barely. But, mostly...  
Mostly, Itachi was a god.

Kisame watched as Itachi dropped out of the trees on the other side of  
Sai's campfire. In the depths of night, the glow of the flames lit them  
both, encircling the scene in a globe of oranges and yellows. As Itachi  
stared down at Sai, a nearby ink-owl hooted a belated warning of  
intrusion.

Itachi reached up to his kasa, and pulled the hat off in one swift  
move as he intoned, "You've come to offer yourself to me. A sacrifice."

The paint-ninja froze. Kisame watched as Sai slowly looked up from his  
sketchbook, and peered at Itachi. His face reminded Kisame of an empty  
sheet of paper or a canvas waiting for paint. Blank. Completely blank.  
Containing neither malice nor concern, neither fear nor bloodlust. Of all  
the reactions to Itachi's presence that Kisame had seen...that one was  
certainly odd.

And then Sai smiled.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Reality, Kisame had found, was pliant. Sort of like heated metals. You  
could mold it. Bend it into myriad shapes, and when it no longer pleased  
you, heat it and re-shape it again. Itachi had taught him this. Itachi  
lived in a world beyond the visible, where all things were possible, where  
even time stretched to the infinite. Only a certain kind of person could  
spend too much time around Itachi without dying. Even more unique was the  
type of person who wouldn't go catatonic, or outright insane, from the  
subtle adjustments that Itachi made to his surroundings. Especially the  
people in his surroundings. And their minds.

Kisame, however, had a mind that did not rebel against the constant  
altering of reality.

Instead, Kisame proved to be the perfect match for Itachi. For, he too  
had a devastating effect on shinobi around him. Slowly, but surely,  
their ambient chakra, and the chakra of their surroundings, would drain  
into the Samehada, and into Kisame. It wasn't something he could  
control, this slow drinking-in of chakra. It was merely the price he  
paid, to keep certain elements of himself under control. For Hoshigaki  
Kisame was a jinchuuriki, and (as long as it was not deprived of chakra  
to consume) the bijuu "Isonade" slept peacefully inside of him.

But, Itachi needed very little chakra to defeat anyone. He conserved all  
energy, like someone hellbent on defeating physics. Itachi never moved  
unless movement was absolutely necessary, and then...never by a millimeter  
more than he needed.

In the end, everyone was satisfied with the arrangement. Itachi and  
Kisame both had partners they could tolerate. Akatsuki's Leader had a  
Uchiha which existed in a significantly less dangerous state, and a  
jinchuuriki under the watchful eye of that skilled Uchiha.

But, all of this meant little as compared to the subtle understandings  
that had arisen between them. They weren't close. They didn't trust each  
other. But, they were certainly -compatible-, as shinobi, and that's what  
mattered most.

"Drink, Itachi-san?" Kisame was already warming the sake. He wasn't a  
drunkard, far from it, but followed the typical Mist Ninja tradition of  
having a nip after dinner to ward off the evening's cold.

"Tea."

Kisame took out the small thermos of tea, and passed it to Itachi.  
Really, his partner's demands were as predictable as rain in Lightning  
Country. Even if the tea was cold and grainy, Itachi would still drink  
it. Water in the morning, tea in the evening, three completely bland  
meals a day. Hardly any meat. Itachi was about as close to a vegetarian  
as a shinobi could get without sacrificing muscle.

Kisame turned his attention to their captive. "And you, kid? You want  
some sake?"

They'd chained Sai to the Samehada. He hadn't resisted. Nor when they  
took his shinobi pack. Nor when they'd temporarily removed his clothes to  
search him. The only time Sai had made any sort of fuss was when they  
attempted to relieve him of his sketchbook. But, they weren't fools.  
The sketchbook was the most dangerous weapon in the young man's  
possession.

Sai looked up from drawing in the dirt with his fingertip. "Yes. Is it  
poisoned, Kisame-san?"

"That's not really my way, kid." Kisame leaned to the side and put the  
small cup of sake on the ground beside Sai. Then, he watched as the young  
ninja struggled to pick it up and drink it, focusing all of his energy and  
concentration on performing the task without error. It was no surprise  
that Sai's body had weakened. The Samehada had been making pleased  
chewing noises ever since they'd chained Sai to it with that single  
chakra-draining cuff. "But, even if it was, do you really think I'd tell  
you?"

Sai's response was an empty smile, one that almost made Kisame imagine  
some sort of viciousness far, far behind it.

Kisame shrugged it off and went back to drinking his tea. Itachi, for his  
part, seemed completely uninterested in their captive. And, Kisame was  
pretty sure that he'd remain that way. But, Itachi wanted -something-  
from Sai, otherwise, the kid wouldn't still be alive.

Sai, with some amount of struggle, put the cup back down. He watched  
Kisame carefully, and as soon as the man began to drink his sake, Sai  
asked, "Kisame-san, do you let Itachi-san put his dick in you?"

Sake went -everywhere-. Kisame had made many mists appear in his life,  
but none quite so fine as the spray of alcohol that came spurting out of  
his mouth.

"Or do you put your dick in Itachi-san? Usually, I can tell who is on  
top, but with the two of you, I'm not quite sure." Sai's expression  
remained patently unreadable. "Is it even possible for you to suck a  
man's cock? With teeth like that?"

After wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Kisame drawled, "That's  
none of your..." How did this kid know? There hadn't been any hints. He  
and Itachi displayed no fondness for one another, for they had none.

There was movement from the opposite side of the camp. Itachi, now  
standing, walked towards the darkness of the forest beyond, and  
disappeared into it. He was diligent in this, as well - predictable and  
like clockwork. He always set the traps before sleep, never delegating  
that particular and delicate task to his partner. But, his voice floated  
back to Kisame, a monotone explanation of Sai's miraculous perception of  
their intimacy, "He baited you, Kisame."

Kisame frowned in annoyance. The Samehada, attuned to its master's  
wishes, made loud chewing noises. Within seconds, Sai slumped to the  
side, too drained of chakra to remain awake.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

There were a few things about Kisame that Itachi found agreeable. First,  
the Mist Ninja never cursed. Itachi found the verbal restraint pleasant,  
as he'd always favored speaking properly, even whilst killing someone, to  
be the proper way of a shinobi. Any random fool could spout a stream of  
vile expletives.

He didn't curse, he bathed regularly, and he had the agreeable habit of  
listening to Itachi's advice in battle. Plus, like Sasuke, Kisame had  
untapped potential lying dormant inside of him. But, whereas Sasuke's  
stemmed from his Uchiha lineage, Kisame was interesting because of  
Isonade. The demon-shark had reared its ugly head three times during  
their travels together, and three times, Itachi had witnessed the effects.  
(Though he had never managed to be around for the actual transformation).  
Devastation for the enemy, followed by a strange mind-fugue for Kisame.  
The Mist Ninja must have lived like this for a long time, Itachi assumed,  
always losing half his memories whenever he was pushed enough for Isonade  
to break beyond the seal of its slumber.

One day, not too far in the future, one of the other Akatsuki would come  
for Kisame. Itachi would not interfere. If Kisame won, his deal with  
their illustrious Leader was to go free. To never be sought after by  
Akatsuki again. If Kisame lost... Itachi would be requiring a new  
partner.

Itachi had to admit, it was a good plan on Kisame's part. Being in  
Akatsuki allowed him to find out about the other members and their  
abilities. In this way, he could best prepare to battle whichever one  
their Leader chose. In Itachi's estimation, Kisame's chance of survival  
was reasonable. As long as the Leader, himself, didn't come after the  
Mist Ninja.

Itachi did not look forward to the possibility of having to get a new  
partner. Although he was apathetic in most things, one shinobi at your  
side was not the same as another. And, as noted, Itachi found a number of  
Kisame's habits agreeable.

Especially the lack of cursing, the polite way he addressed Itachi, the  
restraint he showed in almost all things besides battle.

Then again, most Mist Ninjas had an odd politeness to them. A reserved,  
almost gentle, personal demeanor which didn't interfere with their  
abilities, deadliness, or enjoyment of battle. Just a difference of  
upbringing, Itachi supposed.

It reminded him...of that kid. Haku.

Dead now, or so they'd heard, Itachi and Kisame had met up with the other  
pair of shinobi towards the beginning of their partnership. Zabuza had no  
real quarrel with the other ex-Swordsman of the Mist. In fact, it seemed  
as if the pair were about as friendly as two S-class criminals could get.  
Zabuza ended up offering to allow Itachi and Kisame stay at his and Haku's  
current dwelling while the Akatsuki agents completed their mission.

Itachi, by no means, liked that idea. He preferred solitude. And he  
liked it even less when he came back from intelligence-gathering one  
evening to find Haku kneeling in front of Kisame. The shark-nin's pants  
were around his ankles, and his jaw was clenched with pleasure. Haku's  
head bobbed forward and back, a measured pace that would have made most  
men weak-kneed. As if the scene was no big deal, Zabuza stood off to the  
side, lazily observing the pair. He nodded at Itachi, and then turned  
his attention back to Kisame and Haku.

"What do you think, Kisame?" Zabuza had drawled, "He's good, isn't he?"

Kisame's answer was a choked grunt and a barely controlled jerk of his  
hips. His razor-sharp teeth dug into his bottom lip, causing a thin line  
of blood to snake down his chin.

Itachi watched as Haku's deft fingers fluttered against Kisame's hip.  
They'd switch between hovering, and only briefly touching. As if that  
rough shark-like skin disgusted him, but determination demanded he  
continue. It seemed that for some strange reason, although the boy wasn't  
being forced to do this act, he was forcing -himself-.

"I'll give Haku to you. In trade for the Samehada," Zabuza continued,  
rather blandly.

It was at that point, Itachi turned on his heel and walked out of the  
room. He wasn't interested in these sorts of antics - at least  
not...rationally. But, the reaction in his body made him disgusted. The  
slightest increase of his heart-rate. The shallowing of his own breath.  
A twitch of one of his fingers. Itachi always attempted to rise above  
the very human instinct to react to what was strange, perverse, and  
disturbing.

But, he had no question in his mind about what was occurring in that room  
near Mist Country. Even though Itachi was barely fifteen, he'd been an  
ANBU captain. To assume that he didn't know about sex, or that he hadn't  
encountered it in various forms...would be foolish. He'd already begun to  
pry it out of people's minds when he used the mangekyou on them, learning  
about and cataloging their litany of perversions for analysis.

Still, the way Kisame had bitten his own lip until it bled, instead of cry  
out some expletive...

In the end, Kisame did not make the trade. Not for dislike of Haku,  
Itachi assumed, but because he valued his sword above human contact. And  
Kisame, if he knew that Itachi had entered the room while Haku was blowing  
him, certainly never mentioned it.

At any rate, Itachi was older now. Twenty-one. But, he felt far, far  
older than that. If it were not for the fact that Itachi was in top  
physical condition, he might wonder if he had suddenly walked through a  
gap in time, and ended up older than Orochimaru.

He watched Kisame from the darkness, vaguely interested in how the Mist  
Ninja interacted with Sai. But, now that Sai had passed out, there wasn't  
going to be much of a show.

So, what was the point?

Day by day, Itachi's interest in the physical world continued to wane.  
Very few things managed to prove intriguing to him. But, this situation  
with the paint-ninja seemed promising. Exceptionally so. At least for a  
few days. Invariably, Itachi knew, that toy would get broken. He did not  
know how long he could restrain himself from playing roughly with Sai.

"Kisame," Itachi intoned, a split instant before he stepped out of the  
darkness. The Uchiha moved to kneel on the ground, only an arm's length  
away from where Kisame sat cross-legged.

Kisame looked over at his partner, and then followed that silent red gaze  
to the sleeping Leaf Ninja chained to the Samehada. "Yes? What about  
him?"

"Doesn't he remind you of someone?"

Kisame wondered if Itachi's hearing was going, along with his eyesight.  
"Yes. I told you before, he mildly resembles your..."

One of Itachi's fingers twitched. "Look again."

The genjutsu explained it all, far more vividly than words ever could.  
Sitting against the tree, where Sai had been before he passed out, was an  
image of Haku. Smiling the completely empty smile of someone who was  
just happy to have been used. Used brutally or cruelly. To be a tool. A  
weapon. A perfect and valuable shinobi without emotion.

Haku would have done anything to please Zabuza.

And Sai would do anything to help Naruto.

Even putting himself into this most absurd of peril, in the hopes of  
assisting Naruto in achieving his goal. The goal of retrieving Sasuke.  
And for that they needed bait.

To bring Sasuke home, Naruto needed Itachi. And what Naruto needed, Sai  
was attempting to fetch.

Kisame stared blankly at the hallucination of Haku, and then turned his  
face away. Itachi detected the embarassment, and it repulsed him. Guilt  
for performing perverse acts...had never been Itachi's strong suit, and he  
disliked it in others, as well.

"Sure, the smile is the same. But, can you imagine words like that coming  
out of Haku's mouth?"

"I see," Itachi stated succinctly, "His mouth interests you." He felt no  
need to clarify if he was talking about Haku, or Sai. Instead, he snaked  
his hand up through his own cloak, and began unbuttoning it from the  
inside.

Kisame, to his merit, didn't deny it. He wasn't going to be baited twice  
in one night. He drained the rest of his cup of sake, and put it aside.  
Watching Itachi out of the corner of his eye, Kisame waited for the  
subtle hints that tonight...Itachi wanted -something-. If he unsnapped  
more buttons than usual on his cloak. Or if he took his hair down from  
his ponytail. If he touched that strange necklace he wore, or paused to  
look up at the moon. Then, Kisame knew the likelihood was high that  
Itachi would begrudgingly permit sex.

On this particular evening, none of those things occurred.

Instead, Itachi hopped into a nearby tree, placing distance between  
himself and Kisame. His quiet voice, however, floated back down to his  
partner.

"I'll keep watch."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Kisame, despite his jinchuuriki, slept decently as a general rule. As  
decently as an S-class criminal could afford, at any rate. More often  
than not, his dreams involved foggy half-memories, vigorous battles, and  
the light taste of tea associated with Itachi's mouth. Basically, his  
dreams were merely an abbreviation of his life. Kisame didn't pride  
himself on his imagination.

"So impossible..."

When Itachi said something was impossible, it was truly impossible. So,  
this must be completely impossible. But, they were only just now going to  
River Country to report in from their mission. Why would that be  
impossible? Within the hazy confines of sleep's mirage, Kisame turned to  
look at Itachi, but found that his parner had been replaced with a  
bloodstained Uchiha Sasuke. The younger Uchiha dropped his sword on his  
brother's corpse and intoned coldly, "Do you have a problem with it?"

"...the exactness..."

The vision of Sasuke melted away, leaving behind Kisame's mother in his  
place. A harpy of a woman, with a demeanor of steel. Thrice widowed,  
she'd killed her final husband, Kisame's father, with a trident. The man  
had betrayed Kirigakure, so Kisame's mother was fully within her rights.  
But, did she have to look so smug about it? The woman tossed the bloody  
trident at Kisame's feet and sneered at him before saying, "Do you have a  
problem with it?"

had betrayed Kirigakure, so Kisame's mother was fully within her rights.  
But, did she have to look so smug about it? The woman tossed the bloody  
trident at Kisame's feet and sneered at him before saying, "Do you have a  
problem with it?"

"All of the clones were supposed to have expired."

One of Kisame's eyes slid open, just by a millimeter. A blur of deep  
orange and flickering shadows passed incomprehensibly into his mind.  
Shapes arranged themselves out of the nonsense. A campfire. A forest.  
Itachi. The Samehada. Itachi...missing his cloak. Itachi...bent over a  
prone body. Itachi...talking. Talking to Sai?

"But, yours seems to have survived..."

Kisame wanted to close his eyes. He wanted to be asleep. But,  
fascination riveted the moment in place. What would make Uchiha Itachi  
speak with a tone that bordered on bewilderment? And what would drive him  
to slip his fingers through the paint-ninja's hair so gently? To stroke  
his cheek with such tenderness that it almost bordered on care? To brush  
the pad of his thumb over Sai's bottom lip? And why, after all of that,  
did Itachi's hands drift to Sai's neck, and slowly constrict around the  
young man's throat?

"Shisui-san," Itachi whispered, "He looks just like you."

That name again. Kisame's eye widened, and he smirked nefariously.

So, that's who Sai resembled?

Interesting.

Author's Note: Found this, randomly, whilst looking through my unpublished fanfics directory. Looks like I wrote it around 2007, so keep that in mind as far as how early in the series it is, as far as reference material. Sai had pretty much just then been introduced as a character.


End file.
